Something in the air today. The funny just keeps coming.
You'd think that I never feed these monkeys. They say to me:
"I'm hungry!" ( Mom takes this statement as an opportunity to say "Nice to meet you, Hungry!" My kids laugh even less than I used to, though I admit its funny now).
They also try:
"Make us something to eat" (Mom, raising her magic wand, would say, "You are something to eat. Poof!" The runts usually scowl).
This morning it has been "What else can we eat?" (I got nothing wise for that one, so the rest of this is all mom's fault).
After feeding them granola bars, milk, fruit snacks and whatever they could scavenge when I wasn't looking, they are obviously minutes from starvation. And so here they are, every five minutes like baby birds "peep!peep!peep! What's to eat?"
Fine, I give. "What do you think you should get to eat?" Without skipping a beat, Reaggers says to me "Chocolate cake!" and Peff spouts "and vanilla ice cream!"
Fine. Whatever. It worked for Bill Cosby, right? So with images of the kids prancing around the kitchen singing "Dad is great! Feeds us chocolate cake! Dad is great!" floating around my head, I give up and get them each a small slice of cake and a drop of ice cream.
Do they sing my praises? No.
Dance in my honor? No.
They didn't even say thanks.
Bill Cosby is full of it.
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